Slowly "Getting Sorted"

Living in Northern Ireland has given me a much greater appreciation of Harry Potter. And for a girl who has the Harry Potter theme song set as her ring tone, that’s saying a lot. In greeting, new and old acquaintances constantly ask, “Are you sorted yet?” As if “sorted” describes some otherworldy state of being, a final nirvana where everything has been figured out. Here’s where Harry, Ron and Hermoine come in. I wish getting “sorted” could be as simple as arriving at Hogwarts, sitting on a three-legged stool and placing a wide-brimmed hat on my head. That some magical “Sorting Hat” would whisper in my ear and tell me if I’m going to be courageous or malicious, bookish or sluggish, before showing me to my place. Instead, for me, getting “sorted” has been a process rather than a destination, and - if we are to continue the Harry Potter reference- I haven’t even made it past the Whomping Willow. 

But if the Sorting Hat were going to sort my progress, I think this is how he would categorize things:

Hufflepuff House (for the terminally slow and dull-witted)

Banking: More than a month into living in Northern Ireland and we still do not have a UK bank account, meaning that, for more than a month, we have not had reliable internet access or a mobile plan on a contract (which both require a UK account in order to run a credit check). So, instead, we have spent over $175 to top up a phone that doesn’t even have data and to get online perhaps 15 of the days we’ve been here. The delay in getting our account set up is due to the fact that the International Student Office would not provide a letter of reference for me until after I had officially registered and enrolled at the university. Registration and enrollment only took place a little over a week ago and the earliest Northern Bank could see us to set up our account is today. We are hopeful that my credentials will be accepted, but have heard from some other international students that it can still take up to another month until the funds are actually cleared in the account.  

Healthcare: Ben is also still not registered with a doctor. See here, you can’t just go to a doctor when you’re sick. If you are lucky enough to qualify (which means you are planning to remain in the country for more than six months and you have a legitimate right to be here), you still have to fill out a form, make an appointment to register with a local GP (that’s ‘General Practitioner’ for all those stateside), have a check-up, and even provide a urine sample. Then, for the next 4 to 6 weeks, plan on visiting the Emergency Room if you get the rumblie-tumblies. I just received my medical card in the mail yesterday, which entitles me to free healthcare here in the UK, but Ben hasn’t even had a check-up yet and is coming down with the sniffles. The earliest appointment we could make for him to register with a GP isn’t until next week, so we are hoping that the turnaround will be very quick.

Slytherin House (for those who enjoy making life difficult for others) 

Registration and Enrollment: Normally, I would just gloss over this section because I know you aren’t at all interested in which classes I signed up for, you’re just waiting for me to get to the good bit - the part where I got lost walking around Derry and unwittingly foiled a plot to bomb the Guildhall. (No, that didn’t really happen. Northern Ireland is not a warzone. Please read a newspaper.) Trust me though, when I tell you that registration and enrollment is, like everything else here, an entirely foreign process that has to be experienced to be believed.

First, registering and enrolling at a university in Northern Ireland requires that you learn a foreign language. And I’m not talking about Irish. See, here, a class is called a “module” and a program of study is called a “course.”  A department is referred to as a “faculty” and a teacher is almost never a professor, simply a “lecturer.” Students in Northern Ireland do not have majors or minors. This is because they are accepted into one course when they apply to university, and they take only the modules within that faculty. They do not have GEC’s. This is because they have actually learned how to write and read before they got to college. 

The registration and enrollment process itself is what I believe the Spaniards call “running with the bulls.” We set aside an entire day to chasing down university staff - weaving through a maze of narrow corridors, learning resource centers, computer labs, registry offices, student support centers, and finance desks all linked by varying degrees of distinguishable arrows - waving our red flags (aka. enrollment forms) and trying to get out of the way before we get gouged in the - well, you know - by the next contestant waiting for their turn at the bull. I ran with the bulls for almost 7 hours before I had officially paid and signed up for my classes. 

Church: Translink (not the members of the church here in Northern Ireland) seems to be purposefully trying to make our lives difficult. Of the 5 Sundays since we’ve been here, two we were traveling either to Northern Ireland or to the Rotary District Conference. Two other Sundays, however, we arrived at the train station only to find that the train was gone. We misread the timetable the first time, and arrived just as the train was leaving the station. Last week, we arrived more than five minutes early and were told that the train was on a temporary schedule that day and left 8 minutes ahead of schedule. Buses do not run between Derry and Coleraine on Sundays and the trains only run three hours apart. Evening services are pretty much out of the question. While we would be able to make it in time, after services we would have almost two hours of waiting for the next train after all of the shops, restaurants, etc. close. We have actually only succeeded in going to worship one Sunday since we have been here. The two taxi rides and 40 minute train ride were definitely worth it. I was greeted with hugs from the members who remembered me from last year and they did their best to make Ben and I feel welcome. 

Culture: Walk around Derry after 6 PM and you feel like you’ve entered a ghost town. All the shop fronts are dark and the malls are closed. I suppose after this time, people are expected to be at home or else socializing with their friends over a pint in a pub somewhere. Since Ben and I don’t have any friends over here, we’d like to go on a date or a night out by ourselves sometime, but there doesn’t really seem like there’s anywhere to go other than to a pub. We tried to see what was playing at the Omniplex (the only movie theatre in Derry), but there wasn’t very much selection (Basically, our choices came down to Soul Surfer or the Lion King). We’ve settled for buying a bunch of used movies at GameStop and watching them on our computers. 

Food: People in Northern Ireland seem to be allergic to flavor, unless that flavor is gravy. There are no Mexican restaurants in Derry, for obvious reasons, and there is only one Indian restaurant on the other side of town. There are numerous Chinese take-aways here in Derry, but at least in my mind, the go-to Chinese meal shouldn’t simply consist of french fries, grilled chicken, fried rice, and gravy. We are still trying to find a restaurant that serves something other than roast with two sides of potatoes and gravy (and doesn’t include the word Pizza somewhere in its name).

Ravenclaw (for the common-sensical)

School: Thankfully, in this arena, I feel pretty much in my element. Granted, I have more than 1,000 pages of expected reading a week, but that’s what I signed up for, isn’t it? I’m only in class 4 hours on Tuesday and 3 on Thursday, so I spend the majority of the other five days of the week either in the library or on the couch reading about game theory, liberal peace-building or the history of Northern Ireland. I try to read at least two hours a day, so I’m hoping that despite all of the other distractions of trying to get sorted here, my schoolwork will not suffer.

Music: Ben has been very committed to developing a good practice routine and playing trumpet as much as he can. Generally, he does a two hour warm-up in the morning and plays for at least another two hours in the afternoon. We haven’t had any complaints from the neighbors - I think our newly renovated sound insulation must be helping there.  Ben’s made a list of more than a dozen auditions with professional orchestras and military bands that he has been preparing for, updating the list every few days as new jobs get posted. He spent most of last week recording a 10-minute audition for the U.S. Army Fife and Drum Band, and is now contacting orchestras with approaching deadlines for more specifics on their audition requirements. He also made a list of about a dozen doctoral programs that he wants to apply for, and is contacting the heads of the departments to find out if there are any openings in their trumpet studios and fellowships available. Right now, we have both decided that Ben needs to focus on his music and auditions this year for as long as my scholarship money will allow us. If our wallets start getting a little too empty we will reconsider this strategy, but right now we are just trusting that God will take care of us and that everything will work out. 

Apartment: 2 green pillows are all that stands between us and having our apartment fully decorated and livable. We are adjusting well to our Little House on the Prairie routine. Waking up early in the morning, hand-washing dishes, checking clothes air-drying over the radiators, and making all of our food from scratch on the hob.  Even though things aren’t as convenient as back home, Ben and I rely on each other and we help each other. I can’t even imagine complaining about doing housework in the States after living here. We have everything we need in our wee apartment - each other - and everyday I realize more and more how being married is the best thing I have ever done. Even though it definitely hasn’t felt like a honeymoon (Ben says that this last month has been like a year in our life back home) we know that being here has taught us to depend on each other and to trust each other. I am just so grateful for Ben and for all the blessings being married has brought into our lives.

Gryffindor (for the courageous)

Our Travels certainly belong in this category: In-between all of the crazy mentioned above, Ben and I have been making a concerted effort to see at least a little bit of Ireland, so that in some small way, we can feel like we are on a honeymoon. 

We went to Castlerock, were we walked a bit beside the ocean and saw Mussenden Temple (a 17th century ruin built as a library by the Bishop of Derry to honor his cousin who he was apparently in love with) and Downhill Demesne (his cousin’s house).

Then we took a day where we traveled to Dunluce Castle. Dunluce is a ruined Scottish-style castle on the side of a cliff probably built in the 13th century and complete with a mermaid cave. Legend has it that the castle kitchen fell into the sea during a dinner party in the 1500’s, taking with it several kitchen boys and cooks. After visiting the castle, Ben and I ate some scones on the roadside in the rain for the next couple of hours waiting for the next bus and waved at all of the passing cars. 

We got off at the Giant’s Causeway stop (Depending on which interpretation you believe- either a collection of volcanic rocks which have cooled and cracked in a unique  geometric pattern of columns or a bridge built by Finn McCool, an Irish giant, to challenge a Scottish giant across the ocean).

From the Giant’s Causeway we walked the North Antrim Cliff Path all the way to Dunseverick Castle (a ruined fortress from 1525 BC). The North Antrim Cliff Path, as its name suggests, is a 5 mile hike on top of a cliff. The path isn’t paved and has no guard rails. Ben and I were both more than a little scared given Ben’s lack of balance and that the only walking shoes he had were his Adidas. He slipped and slid the whole 3 hours but we both enjoyed every minute of it. It was breathtaking.

Then, a week later we tried to take the grand tour of Ireland, like all of the guidebooks suggest. I say tried, because Ben and I quickly discovered that our vacation style is not one of driving constantly and getting out whenever you see something interesting. Still, we had some pretty incredible experiences.

We drove almost 8 hours from Derry to Cork City - which both of us loved - and then drove on to Blarney Castle. We both kissed the Blarney Stone, which is a lot scarier than they tell you in the guidebooks. You climb more than a hundred steps in a narrow tower, then they hang you upside down over an open window to kiss a rock. The old man who helped me was a bit cheeky - he told me he was about to give me "The kiss of my life" and asked me if I was ticklish. I did not feel very eloquent afterwards, but Ben managed to fit Blarney into every sentence for the rest of the day.

From Blarney we went to Kinsale, the cutest little fishing town you’ve ever seen, whose claim to fame is its amazing restaurants. We had a wonderful, wonderful lunch topped off with a chai latte and espresso each and then drove about two and a half hours to Kinsale, a charming little village complete with its own stone circle, a 15th century stone bridge and the most colorful little restaurants and pubs imaginable. Our B&B there, Rockcrest House, is the nicest accommodation I have ever stayed in. The hosts were wonderful and the full Irish breakfast of potato cakes, grilled tomato, porridge and honey, cereal, baked beans, black and white pudding, sausage, rashers and fried egg was amazing.

Our host in Kenmare suggested that we drive the Ring of Beara (a scenic driving route on the Beara Peninsula) instead of the Ring of Kerry, another, very touristy driving route, which is touted as being the must-see experience of Ireland. Ben and I decided to take her advice. 

Our first stop was on a whim. We saw a brown tourist sign for a place called ‘Priest’s Leap’ and intrigued by the name, decided to turn off the main road. The road changed from a narrow, one-lane paved road to a narrower gravel road to a four-wheeler track winding and meandering up the side of a mountain. We literally drove through a cloud. Ben was shaking the whole time, but once you started driving up, there was no way to come down except in reverse, so we pressed on. At one point Ben and I had to stop because there were rams butting heads in the middle of the path. The only people we saw were two farmers on four wheelers followed by about 10 sheep dogs. They just waved at us and smiled encouragingly. It was the most unforgettable experience of the whole day.

Our next stop was at a stone circle from at least 3,000 B.C. It was just in the middle of a farmer’s field near another prehistoric site, a ring fort from around the same period. Coming from a country which preserves buildings from the 1800’s, it was incredible to stand there and feel the weight of millenia in the air around you.

Next, Ben and I tried to visit Dunboy castle, but it ended up being graffiti-ridden and disappointing so we drove on up and down the Beara Mountains to a small town called Eyeries where we hoped to grab a bite of lunch. Unfortunately, we didn’t realize how small the town was. There were no restaurants open until after October and the pubs did not serve food. Ben and I bought a sandwich at the petrol station/grocery store/hardware store/only place serving food in town and drove on to Limerick.

The next day was devoted to the Rotary District Conference, but the following morning we went to the Cliffs of Moher, the tallest sea cliffs in Ireland and then drove through the Burren, an eerily lunar landscape with dozens of prehistoric sites. We saw a portal tomb in which dozens of people had been buried at least 3,000 B.C. 

From there, we drove up to the Fermanagh Lakelands and stayed the night in a B&B. The next day I did a presentation with the Enniskillen Rotary Club and after visiting Monea Castle, Ben and  I met up with a girl I took a class with here last year. She and her husband, Lamb, took us out on his dad’s boat to Devenish Island, a monastery built on an island in the middle of a lake around the 13th century. It rained the entire time but we enjoyed ourselves and spent the rest of the evening at their house talking. Ben had a lot of trouble understanding Lamb’s accent, which provided for constant moments of hilarity.

We are hoping to take a trip somewhere warm in the next few weeks, potentially to Alicante or Malaga, Spain where we can enjoy beautiful weather, beaches and glorious flavorful food for the cost of about 40 pounds round-trip (It cost us more than that to rent a car over here).

Till next time :)